


I can't believe you said yes

by phrynne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Drabble, Drarry, Engagement, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Romance, Slytherin Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrynne/pseuds/phrynne
Summary: ‘I can’t believe you said yes.’‘I can’t believe you got down on your knees and it wasn’t to suck me off.’Or how Draco Malfoy wasn't supposed to be head over heels with Harry Potter but he is and he fucking doesn't care what you think.





	I can't believe you said yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Epoxide (MiyuTanemura)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyuTanemura/gifts).



> It's my amazing beta Epoxide birthday today and I wanted to give her a gift. She asked for porn and fluff, so here is what I came up with. Just be warned that I'm a hopeless romantic and despite my apparent skepticism I'm a sucker for happy fluffy porn that makes us smile like a silly person. I hope that's the result for you reading this fic. 
> 
> Happy Birthday lovely Epoxide! Love u :)

‘I can’t believe you said yes.’

‘I can’t believe you got down on your knees and it wasn’t to suck me off.’

‘Sorry to disappoint.’

‘Don’t be. I’ve been hard ever since.’

‘I know. Poor baby.’

‘Draco…’

‘I sense a please somewhere in there.’

‘Please. It’s been hours.’

Draco did not know what he’d done in life to deserve this. He was sure there had to be a mistake, the universe was bound to lash out on him at some point, because he could not, for the life of him, understand how he’d gotten so lucky so as to have Harry Potter pressed under him, his back against Draco’s chest, his arse pressing against Draco’s hard cock. Also, Harry had said yes. Just hours before. He had said yes. He now wore a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, that Draco had put there. Draco had one too. An elegant silver band with their initials carved on the inside, specially ordered, fucking expensive and the cheesiest thing he’d ever set his eyes on. He’d probably had to hand in his Slytherin credentials right about now because of it. Harry looked at him with a teasing look, and pulled on his lip, slowly, whimpering. Draco pulled him close, his hands sliding around Harry’s waist, like they belonged there, and Harry leaned into him, moving his hips just slightly to feel Draco’s cock against his arse. Draco grunted and his fingers gripped Harry’s hips.

‘I want my fiancé up my arse…’ Harry said, a half-shy, half-shag-me smile on his lips that had been the first thing that had made Draco realise he was about to fall in love - hard and deep. And Harry knew that. He knew what that smile did to Draco. Fuck, Harry was the sexiest, most delicious person in the world, the hottest man Draco had ever laid eyes on and he, of all people, was going to marry him.

He could not believe his luck or how much his life had changed in the last few years. Malfoys weren’t supposed to like cock and he did, he loved it. Loved the taste of it, the smell of it, the pressure of it against his mouth, the burn of it inside him, the swell of it under his fingers. He had a special preference for Harry’s cock. Malfoys weren’t supposed to like Potters’ cocks in general, he was pretty sure of that. But this Potter in particular was probably the worse Potter he could have gone for (was there any other? He was sure the Wizarding World would agree that this was the only Potter that mattered). Anyway, Draco Malfoy was not supposed to like Harry Potter’s cock. Or his eyes. Or his smile. Or the way he walked. Malfoys weren’t supposed to fall head over heels for Harry Potter. That was probably why it had taken him so much time and denial to admit it. That and a bottle, or two, of Firewhisky and Pansy and Blaise tormenting him for hours on end. He had suffered. He had suffered because Harry Potter not only had the most delicious arse and legs and arms - and well, it was all about the full set, wasn’t it? Something about the ensemble… well, he was babbling. The thing was, somehow everything about him looked too good to be real.

But it wasn’t only that Potter was his every fantasy come to life, he was also a walking, talking wet dream. Draco knew he was lost when he realised that time around Harry did not go the same way, it slowed down impossibly for him to take in every little detail, like the way Harry was always honest, straightforward (but that was about the only straight thing in him, thank Merlin, that would have been such a waste, a straight Harry Potter!), the way he always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, the way he was so gentle and caring. It was actually the gentleness that made Draco so very nervous around him. Also, time could go incredibly fast, like flying on a broom towards the ground, wind on your skin and hair, it was so exhilarating and it was always over so fast no matter how many hours he’d be around Harry. Then, one day, Harry had asked him on a date. Malfoys did not date Potters. It didn’t matter, he had said yes. That date ended on a bed. Then on the floor. Then on his couch. Then in the shower. Then Harry had said simply: _I’m in love with you._ Draco wasn’t able to answer, but Harry wasn’t hurt. He did not push him. Draco kissed him and it was enough. Harry asked him to be his boyfriend. He said yes, without saying he was in love. And Slytherins did not date Gryffindors. Or shagged them. Or fell in love with them. But he did and not necessarily even in that order.

Slytherins weren’t certainly supposed to go to Pride marches, with their boyfriends wrapped around them. He had. His fingers laced in Harry’s, then Harry’s arm around his waist. He’d never felt so happy and proud in his life, as he watched Harry holding a bisexual pride flag, smiling so much Draco wanted to kiss him for hours. That was exactly what they did. They kissed. Long, hard, sweet. Then not so sweet and downright filthy. And very publicly. Surrounded by a crowd of people, the Prophet’s reporters lurking somewhere. Harry used to care about showing up on the papers, but with Draco he never did. He was out, he wasn’t ashamed. And Draco felt like he could take on the world. That was when he told him: _I’m in love with you, Harry._ There were people screaming and dancing all around them, so many different flags waving and Harry’s smile burned through him, making the world, his world, explode in colours he never knew existed.

That was the smile on the front page of the Prophet the next day. That smile spoke volumes. Draco had thought he’d feel mortified, instead he found his heart was about to burst. There they were, him and Harry, holding hands, the bisexual pride flag more visible than ever, floating behind them. He was wearing a shirt Harry had given him. It said, in quite bright letters, _Gay as in fuck you._ He loved it. It was direct, unapologetic, just like Harry. Well, like their love, actually. His father was furious, of course. He had dishonoured the Malfoy name and he’d never been so happy. He’d fucked Harry barely seconds from getting home. They didn’t even made it to the bed. He’d had Harry there, dropping to his knees, tracing Harry’s hipbone with his tongue, licking at the point where his phoenix tattoo started, going elegantly from his hipbone to his back, curling, opening its wings upwards. That tattoo was a fucking turn on. So was everything else about Harry. The way his hands fisted Draco’s hair as Draco leant to suck him down in one slow movement. The way he shuddered, the way he never kept his moans to himself. Draco loved to hear him. It always started with a sudden quiet gasp, like Harry was always surprised by Draco’s touch. Either from his fingers on his legs, then on his thighs, then when he felt Draco lowering his trousers and pants, then when his nails traced softly over his skin, over his balls. Harry panted, like it was too much, and Draco hadn’t even touched his cock but he was already so hard. He had knelt there, his breath hitching on Harry’s jutting cock, and he loved how Harry started to lose it, just like that, Draco’s hands holding his hips in place and his mouth open, breathing, barely an inch from his cock and still not touching it. That moment there, right before his mouth closed over the head of Harry’s cock was his fucking favorite moment. His mouth watered, he listened to the hard intake of breath from Harry and he still waited, keeping himself and Harry still, looking upwards and knowing Harry was going to almost burst the second his lips touched his cock. And so he lowered his head, just slightly, his lips parted to allow for Harry’s invasion and the tip of Harry’s cock pulsed heavy, warm, against his lips, then slowly against his tongue and he gripped harder at Harry’s hips, to keep him steady. Harry was trembling, his cock went inside Draco’s mouth, ever so slowly, Draco was in control and he relished in it, the sweet weight of Harry’s cock against his tongue as he moved, taking more and more. Oh. He fucking loved his boyfriend’s cock. Only then did he close his lips around it  and Harry bucked so violently his cock hit the back of Draco’s throat. It was what Draco wanted. To gag on it. They fucked themselves violently, Harry’s screams edging him on, his hunger for Harry building up inside him until Draco’s throat was raw and filled with Harry’s come.

‘I want to have you for dinner,’ he said now, his voice low, Harry still pressed between him and the wall. Harry closed his eyes, his whole body shaking. Draco knew how much his husband-to-be loved it when he talked dirty. Nothing Draco said was ever too much.

He gripped hard at Harry’s hair and his other hand shot for Harry’s hand supporting him against the wall. The ring hand. Harry moaned and let his head fall on Draco’s shoulder, biting his lip hard. Draco gripped harder at his hair and watched Harry’s eyes widen. He loved pain like this.

‘Touch me, Draco… Please…’

Draco was already going there. He left Harry’s hand and went down, feeling Harry up, stopping at the clear bulge on his pants. He palmed it, soft, then just threading it with his fingers, lightly. Harry bucked into his hand, helpless. He could not stop biting his lip. Draco wanted to laugh. He had been hard for hours now, too, and Harry knew it.

Slytherins or Malfoys did not propose on their knees, with fucking silly smiles on their faces, in front of all his boyfriend’s friends and family, and his friends and mother, at the fucking Burrow - of all places. He still could hear Pansy’s laugh ringing in his ears, but she actually sounded more happy than sardonic. She was losing her touch, too. Even Blaise had a hint of a smile on his face, and it wasn’t an ironic one. He’d accepted his invite to be his best man. Maybe all the Slytherins were losing their touch, after all. He didn’t care. He fucking did not care at all. It was something he’d discovered with Harry. Slytherins - everyone - could be whatever the hell they wanted. Malfoys too.

He’d wanted to shag Harry senseless the second Harry had said yes with eyes so green and a smile so beautiful it had stopped Draco’s brain. It hadn’t helped that Harry had all but jumped on him, and they’d almost fallen over, lips and bodies latched onto each other. For a second, there was only him and Harry. When he came up for air, Pansy had to nudge him hard on the ribs for him to react to the Weasleys' trying to congratulate him all at the same time.

Harry was looking over his shoulder at him, his smile was bright and pleading all at the same time.  

‘Draco…’ Harry begged, nibbling on his jaw. He knew too well Draco could not resist that. Harry lifted his arse, bucking his hips. ‘Draco… eat me out… put your tongue inside me and fuck me.’

And so Draco did. He went down on his knees, keeping Harry in place. Harry let out a long breath. He traced the curve of Harry’s arse. He was in love with Harry’s arse. He did not even know if he’d fallen first for Harry or his arse, and it became sort of private joke between them. Now he was the type of person who shared private jokes with Harry Potter. Well, he was about to share private everything so he might as well get used to it. But it was really a joke. What he loved was how Harry responded every time he touched him. The way he felt under his eyes and hands and mouth and cock. Like now. Harry’s skin was burning as he palmed his arse slowly, kneading it. He leant closer and breathed and Harry arched under him. His moan sounded too much like _Draco_. He still remembered the first time Harry had called him by his first name. His cock had been deep inside Harry, surrounded by warmth and slickness, and Harry had been so open, his mouth ready to take in Draco’s tongue, his thighs spread to the fullest to take in Draco’s body between them, his hole stretched wide to welcome Draco inside, deep, so deep, his green eyes wide and dark and he had gripped hard at Draco’s shoulders, pulling him deeper even, his hips coming off the bed to meet Draco’s thrusts and the rhythm did not matter, the performance did not matter, they were sweaty and sticky from come from before, none of them cared, because Draco was finally home and he was welcome, he was drowning in the green eyes, he was coming to terms with the fact that he was completely and utterly in love with Harry Potter and he was almost coming, it was too good, too warm, Harry was taking him in, all of him, and his mouth was searching for Draco’s, they kissed and it was slow, as Draco pumped into him, filling him up, Harry’s moans on his ears, he was melting, he was going to… Harry’s mouth was everything, warm, wanting, or was it his hole? Everything in Harry wanted him, was drawing him in, and he was about to combust, Harry’s hands went down to his arse, pressing harder, kneading, and his cock went even deeper and then there was nowhere else to go, Harry was screaming, he was clenching around Draco and then he’d heard it, he thought he was dreaming, he was delirious but then Harry said it again and again and again, inside his mouth, open for the taking, as he came with a renting yell. Draco Draco Draco… and Draco was coming, he stopped seeing, he just kept emptying himself inside Harry, not knowing anything besides his own name, because Harry kept moaning it, over and over and over… It had happened two years ago. He’d never live long enough to forget it.

And now Harry was going to marry him, he thought as his tongue entered Harry’s hole, and Harry was again moaning his name, so sweetly, as Draco’s tongue breached him, slowly, gently. He felt the silver ring on his hand touching Harry’s burning skin and he buried his face in the heat as Harry’s moans grew loud and free, free as he felt, free as their love, because now he could chose, he could make his own way and he’d chosen Harry. And he’d chose him all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've spotted any mistakes, please tell me :) Comments and kudos make my day!


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